


I Dream of Jeannie

by ThePrincessofPain



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Killing Joke (Comics)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Harleen Quinzel has dreams of the past, Post-Killing Joke, Pre-Mad Love, Spoilers for Batman: The Killing Joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-19 10:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14235513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrincessofPain/pseuds/ThePrincessofPain
Summary: Harleen has these weird dreams sometimes. One's where she's this woman named Jeannie pregnant and married to a guy named Jack. Spoilers for The Killing Joke. You've been warned.





	1. Dreams of What Once Was

Sometimes Harleen dreams she is a woman named Jeannie.

 

_She dreams of a house in the bad part of Gotham, and a man named Jack. They're poor, and barely have enough to get by, but they love each other so much they are happy with what little they have. Jack is a worker at a chemical company. Jeannie stays home for the most part. When she tells Jack she's pregnant, he's ecstatic, lifting her in the air and peppering her face with kisses._

 

_She loves Jack so much, and when he says he wants to become a comedian, she encourages him (She laughs at all his jokes, even the unfunny ones). Everything is fine, until Jack quits his job. "I want to make people smile, Jeannie." He tells her. She smiles softly and combs her fingers though his hair. She believes in Jack and hopes his dream will come true. Their house is foreclosing, but Jack will go to his comedy club and everything will be okay._

 

_Jack comes back from the club with his suit rumpled and unshed tears in his eyes. "They didn't think I was funny, Jeannie. Why wasn't I funny enough?" He asked her. She holds him and whispers that she'll always think he's funny until he falls asleep. She places a hand on her stomach and feels the baby kick, silently praying to god to have mercy on them._

 

_She's home alone in an inferno. Jack left, something about a surprise. Everything around her burns. She hopes Jack will be okay. She hears a creaking noise and looks up to see a piece of on fire wood falling right above her._

 

 Harleen usually wakes up before she dies. But sometimes, she burns, and wakes up with the smell of smoke in her nose and the taste of ash in her mouth, hand cradled around her empty stomach protectively, screaming out for Jack.


	2. You're Different from the Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harleen Quinzel meets The Joker.

Harleen walked into the room, not even looking at her patient. Crossing the room, she grabbed her clipboard, cursing Dr. Crane in the back of her mind.

She was so absorbed in cursing him out in her head she didn't realize her appointment was in her office until he spoke, "I ain't no therapist, but aren't you supposed to try to get me to talk about my traumatic childhood, or perhaps my abusive Father?"

Harleen, already in a bad mood, turned to give the patient a piece of her mind and froze.

The man in front of her looked just like her…

 _ **No!**_  

 Harleen shook her head, trying to banish all thoughts of a dream where she was a woman named Jeannie with a husband. A husband that looked a lot like The Joker. The only differences were that where Jack was darker, The Joker was pale. His hair was also green, where Jack's was a dark brown she had loved to run her hands through.

 But, something that made her blood run cold was his eyes. His eyes looked just like Jacks. Her Jack had beautiful violet eyes, one's that lit up with joy any time he was happy or she laughed at one of his jokes. The Joker had the same color eyes. The only difference was that The Joker's had a disturbing glint in them, one darker then her Jacks.

 But he looked so much like Jack she couldn't help but reach out to him, running her hands through his hair like she used to. The delirious smile faded from his ruby lips for a moment and he leaned into the caress, his eyes losing that demented glare.  _Oh, Jack_. she thought to herself, trying not to cry at the thought of Jack turning into this distorted creature.

 She suddenly realized what she was doing and quickly snatched her hands back. She mentally cursed herself. Jack wasn't real, and the fact The Joker looked like her dream man did not bode well for her. She moved away from him and sat back in her chair, lacing her fingers that yearned to touch him together.

"My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel. I'll be treating you." She said, trying to retain some semblance of professionalism. He smiled at her and she felt her heart skip a beat.

"What a pretty name! Do your friends call you Harley?"

She flushed. “Oh, I don’t have any friends.” She mumbled, looking down at her hands to avoid looking at him.

“Well!” He exclaimed suddenly, and she jumped. A pale hand touched her interlaced ones, and she looked up into gentle violet eyes. “You have one now, Harley!” He told her, grinning at her shocked face. And despite berating herself in her head, she smiled back.


	3. Realizations and a Picture of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley finds out the truth after The Joker beats her.

 Harley flounced through the door of Joker's hide out, an angry look on her face. Her make-up less face and uncovered blonde hair (not to mention the negligee she was wearing) shocked The Joker's flunkies for a moment, but they immediately inverted their gaze when they saw Joker come in after her, checking to make sure none of them were looking at his girl. Apparently, Quinton was to slow to look away because Joker pulled out his gun and shot him without even a glance in his direction. He missed the head but hit Quinton's throat. The lackey fell back, choking on his own blood and the others knew he would die no matter if they helped him or not. Both clowns ignored the dying man and continued their conversation.

 

"Mr.J all you do is shoot your own man, and chase the B-man! I'm sick of it!" Harley shouted at him.

 

"But, Pumpkin, Honey-" The Joker tried to sweet talk. Harley held up a hand to stop him.

 

"No, Puddin’! I'm sick of this. I thought maybe you would have time for me after-" Harley cut herself off, bringing a hand to her stomach as though she felt ill. The Joker's eyes fell to her stomach and his eyes marginally softened.

 

"Harley, are you pregnant?" He asked, pulling her towards him. She let out a shaky breath. The Flunkies all watched, curious as to how his mood had so quickly changed. Harley didn't pay them any mind, looking up into his warm violet eyes and practically seeing Jack. She had given up hope of ever getting him back, thought it was a delusion he had ever existed at all. But here, now in front of her she saw him, in those eyes.

 

_"You're pregnant, Jeannie?" Jack asked, his shock look fading and a radiant smile replacing it._

_She grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach before looking up into his eyes and speaking,_

_"We're going to be a family."_

 

 The memory faded, leaving her cold. They came more frequently now. It didn't seem to matter whether she was asleep or awake. She wasn’t sure exactly what they were. Memories of a past life? Visions of what could have been had she not submitted to his insanity?

 

 

 She wasn't sure how she ended up with him and these dreams. Maybe it was fate. She herself didn't believe in the notion, but Jack did, and this certainly was fate incarnate (it had to be). Drawing herself back to the matter at hand, she prepared herself for a possible slap to the face.

"No." She told him, before closing her eyes. The first punch didn't take her by surprise. Nor did the second. Or the third. The feeling of a knife twisted into her stomach though, had her opening her eyes in surprise just in time to see him sadistically smile before shoving the blade all the way in. She let out a scream and went limp. He dropped her to the ground, letting the knife drag itself out. She tried to crawl away, but the pain blinded her.

 _You're bleeding out, Harley. Put your hand over the wound._ Her mind told her. She managed to curl up and put a hand over the cut before he was on her again. He stepped on her ankle relishing her scream before starting to kick her in the back. Again, and again. She closed her eyes, her heartbeat slowing in her ears as she finally passed out.

 Even then he didn't stop. He hit her until the stunned flunkies shook themselves and dragged him away. Only then did he calm down, and see the bloody mess Harley was in. Her face was unrecognizable, and bruises were already showing. The Joker looked at her for a moment longer, before turning on his heel, stepping over Quinton's now dead body, and walking away, calling over his shoulder,

“C’mon, Boys! We’ve things to do!”

 

Unable to do anything, they cast apologetic looks at the unconscious girl’s body before going to suit up.

 

 Harley woke up with the taste of metal in her mouth. Groaning, she shifted, taking stock of what was broken. How had they ended up like this? Him an abusive maniac, and her his punching bag? What had happened to him to make him this way? She sighed, the motion making her stomach hurt, before standing up. She winced when she put weight on her right ankle, but otherwise she seemed fine.

 She limped into their shared bedroom. Where were those bandages? _They're in the top shelf_. Her mind supplied. She slowly walked over and slid the drawer open. Instead of first aid supplies, she came across a brown suit and a photograph.

_Wrong dresser_ , she thought before falling. A drawer came down with her and fell hard on her back, and she let out a cry as it smashed against her. She righted herself, and pushed the drawer off her. It fell to the ground with a crash and she winced, tensing and waiting for Joker to come up and beat her more. No one came though, and she let out a relieved breath before looking to see what exactly was in the drawer.

 It was a half-burnt picture of Jack and Jeannie. She rubbed her eyes, and blinked, but when she opened them it was still there. Their faces were happy. Jacks hand rested on Jeannie's belly. The photo blurred, and Harley idly realized that she was crying.

 

 _They were real. It was real. All of it, Jack **my** Jack was real. _ She thought, hysteria bubbling in her. _I died, I died, and he became this mad thing. Oh my god.  Oh, Jack what happened?_

She sat there sobbing for hours, tracing the faces in the picture. She stayed that way until she fell asleep, still bleeding and painfully broken.

 

 Hours later, Joker waltzes into their bedroom, all madness and crazy until he sees Harley and the broken drawer that contained the last remnants of his normal life. He stomps over to her, intent on ripping her up by her hair when he suddenly caught sight of something clenched in her hands. He shakes her, carefully so she doesn't rip up the picture.

 

"Harley?" He called gently, brushing her hair out of her face. Like this, her hair almost looked like Jeannie's. She opened her eyes, and as they locked onto him she held up a photo of a woman and man he wished he could forget.

 

"Jack?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's a good place to end, but mostly I just want this done. I hope you guys enjoyed I Dream of Jeannie. I think the only way I would add to this was if you guys wanted to see a Joker POV. Please feel free to leave a comment. I really want to hear your thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of 3. Please let me know what you thought!


End file.
